Writing about myself is like staring down a steep, crumbling cliff-face, with little more than a bottle of off water and three unruly apple peels to climb down it; it's exhausting, highly dangerous, ludicrous, and extemely entertaining for onlookers to watch. So let's just keep it simple.

I'm 'Schnook', in highschool, and in a land down under.

I like to read, to write, and create questionable explosive devices out of Coca-Cola bottle caps and sparkler's dust. Like most of the world's population, I guess. I like to write my fiction with my two hands tied behind my back, and the tip of my large nose pressing down on the black keys, usually in a pattern, or some sort of organised rhythm. As a result of this odd habit, I have regular nose-bleeds, none of which involve any blood whatsoever. I'll leave that one in your hands.

An estranged thief, on the run ever since the tragedy that changed her life. A quiet and abused teenager, whose live has left him with only pain and revenge. What happens when the past comes back with a vengeance, and neither of them are prepared...?

A girl makes a list of 100 things she wants to find in her perfect guy. She refuses to stop looking until she finds a boy with all 100 traits. But once she finds him, she runs into another problem. She's not happy.

The ground beneath me began to shake...the man in the fedora sighed deeply, heat and pain escaping between his lips. "It's begun," he said. "Gentlemen, I believe the world is turning upside down." And just like that, the soil under my toes began to rotate

The Hunterbird William M C may be a scholarship-dream-come-true for the lucky ten students from across the world that get to go, but every school has its secrets, and history might even unfold and repeat itself...pls read, its better than the summary! R&R

I haven’t come to tell you about myself, my appearance, or even my favourite bands. I have come to tell you my story, and unlike many others mine does not start on a refugee boat, in a faraway palace, or even in a place called ‘Forks.’My story starts here

I’d love to give you an explanation as to who I am or why I’m here – but truth be told, it doesn’t really matter. And to be perfectly honest, I’m not sure I want to anymore. WARNING: kind of sad. short story.